


Gaster's Disdain

by VerySmallChild



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Crying W. D. Gaster, Cults, Culture Shock, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27346411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerySmallChild/pseuds/VerySmallChild
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Gaster's Disdain

Wingdings Gaster was a young skeleton, and the last of his kind. He lived with the king and queen, finishing his schooling and moved on from his life on the surface. The queen observed him while he was under her care, he acted strangely, barely speaking unless spoken to, it took her years to get him to come out of his shell. 

Wingdings would flinch every time someone made a loud noise or raised their hand a little too high. He would avoid being touched and never seeked comfort. It was a little odd to see a child act this way. But that is what happens when you raise a child during the war.

The first time Asgore and Toriel met him he was hiding under a hollow tree when the human army was invading the camp. He looked so scared, fragile even. Wingdings was badly hurt, his skull was cracked, his ribs and legs were broken, he had barely enough magic to keep himself together. The king and queen never asked what happened. they had their answer all around them. Monsters were at war with humans, children would get caught in the crossfire all the time, unfortunately. Oh how wrong they were, Humans never laid a finger on him. If they had just asked they would look at the world a little differently. No, it was not the humans that hurt Wingdings, it was the monsters, his own kind. 

Wingdings spent the first few weeks underground in a medical tent, being cared for and guarded round the clock. At first he refused to allow anyone near him. He wouldn't outrightly say anything, just he would put up a wall of bones to prevent anyone going near him. Eventually he calmed down enough to allow one nurse to change his bandages, she was patient and kind, she spoke in such a way that Wingdings didn't feel scared. The king and queen visited regularly, checking up on his progress, he would not look them in the eyes, nor would he respond unless they asked him to. He had no idea where his father was but if he found out he spoke out of turn in front of the royal family he would be punished for it. 

Today’s meeting was different, the queen spoke softly like the nurse had done, bringing him to meet her gaze, “Since you are feeling better, I was wondering if you would like to come with us, we have a place for you to stay, and we will see to any of your needs. Since you have no next of kin that survived-”

‘Wait, what?’

“Wingdings, you are the only skeleton that made it through the barrier, everyone else perished, I am sorry. We looked through all the records, and all the listings of monsters that survived there were none accounted for. Even stranger still, your name was not on any regerstory, so we will have to do that at some point.” 

When the announcement was made that he was the last skeleton, he felt no remorse for them, he felt relieved. He was finally free from his horrid life. But, oh, life is not that simple. 

After moving into New Home, Wingdings struggled to adjust. The first time he stepped into his own room caused a panic attack. He expected just a room with a bed in it. But this was much more than that. The room itself was quite spacious but it looked smaller with all the items in it. He had a dresser which had a few outfits in his size. A desk for him to work at, on the seat was paperwork for him to start schooling, which was revolutionary considering he had never been allowed to go to school before. There was a bookshelf on the back wall, containing his needed textbooks, and a couple of general reading as well. It was his room. He was confused because he had done nothing to earn it, the king and queen didn't ask anything of him, so why was he given all this stuff. He didn't want to ask, because he felt like it wasn't his turn to speak. He simply turned to them and signed out a 'Thank you'  
They seemed happy with his response. 

Toriel passed him some paperwork for him to fill out, finally registering him as a monster. It was weird to say the least, despite being literate he struggled to fill in some of the information. He had no idea what a birthday was, nor what his last name could be, he had no need for either. Thinking it was out of place to ask, he came up with his own. The name Gaster was of high esteem back in the late 1700s, skeletons of high intellect and magical prowess. The name Gaster would go down in history. As for a date, he quite enjoyed late august, around that time of year he could see falling stars from his window. He knew he was roughly 14years old, knowing that soon he would turn 15 so he used the date 14/08/10XX, the day before the festival of dust. He handed the form back to Toriel who smiled. She walked over to the nearest calendar, quickly scribbling the date down. Wingdings didn't really put that much thought into it. 

He was visited by the royal doctor a few times, but they quickly realised that he would not get much done if he was unable to get near his patient, his nurse helpfully assisted providing him with detailed notes of his condition, but even she didn't know everything. Not much could actually be done for his older wounds, so they eventually decided that his body would have to heal on his it’s own. As for his voice. The boy had so much trouble speaking, the royal doctor actually thought he was mute, that he lost the ability to speak, but Wingdings was just scared. All of his life he was told to never use his voice. If he did he would be beaten. There was so much fear in the young boy’s soul. 

The few instances they actually heard the boy was when he would wake up screaming, Wingdings was plagued with nightmares, he would refuse comfort, if either Asgore or Toriel heard him and came running to his room, they would be met with an impassable wall of bones, they could do nothing for him. In the morning he would not respond to any of their questions. Just quietly trying to move on.

Toriel was very understanding of this, trying to make him feel as comfortable as possible, constantly being offered to sit at the table with them during meal time, asking yes or no questions as she found those easier for the boy to answer. 

Some of the meals he would just sit through until he was excused, not having the stomach to eat much. It only became an issue if the royal couple had business to attend to elsewhere in the castle, when they would return they found none of Wingdings’ meals had been touched.  
They learned that they couldn't force him to eat either, it had been 3 days since Toriel had last seen him eat, when she told him he had to, he winced. He took the meal given to him and tried to take a few bites out of it, he clutched the area where his stomach would be (if he had one), as he ran to the bin, heaving out the consumed magic until there was nothing left. Toriel looked on in concern.

‘Im fine, it will pass, it always does.’ 

"I still think it best to call a doctor."

‘He won't tell me anything I don't know.’

“Even so, I would like to know how to best help in this situation.” 

As it turned out Wingdings was extremely malnourished, and it would take a number of years of steady eating until he was healthy again. As for not being able to eat, that seemed to be psychological, so they suggested he go see someone, but the boy refused. The doctor gave him some supplements to help him on the days he couldn't eat, hoping that if he regains some strength the boy might start eating again normally.  
He never did.

~~~~ 

The first time Wingdings spoke was to Toriel, he wanted to test if he was allowed to, and she seemed less threatening than anyone else he met in the kingdom, her voice was calm, her demeanor, sweet. If he was going to get in trouble, it probably won't be as bad if he speaks to her. Wingdings had a plan, eleven oclock she would be in the kitchen baking for lunch. King Asgore was in his garden, and all the guards had already been given their tasks for the day. It was simple. He already planned what he was going to say, he planned to ask about the pie she was baking. Easy enough. 

As quietly as he could, he stepped into the kitchen, Toriel was humming away. He just needed to ask. Tapping on the wall, he got her attention, “Hello my child, is there something you need?”  
This is it, he just needs to say five words and it's done, he opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again. Toriel is still looking at him, he wants to just get this over with, see where he stands, “w-what-” he gasps, His voice is quiet due to the lack of use, he slowly beginning to panic, but it's too late, he needs to finish his sentence or he might make her more mad, “w-hat pie are y-you b-bak-ing?”  
Toriel's eyes soften even further, a small smile appears on her lips  
“It's a butterscotch cinnamon pie.”  
He nods. His soul is pounding inside his chest, but he is relieved that she at least answered him. His eyes are probably glowing, showing how scared and weak he is, he is still waiting for the blow to hit him.  
“Would you like to help me make the filling, I can show you how to if you would like.”  
Wingdings is still too busy panicking to register that he has been asked a question.  
He nods regardless, she smiles. She turns and starts pulling out the ingredients.  
“Here we are, do you think you could stir the brown sugar and butter on the stove for me?” she spoke as she passed him a wooden spoon. He nodded. Slowly reaching out for the utensil.  
They finished the dish relatively quickly, “why don't you go sit down, I will bring everyone out a slice when it has cooled.” the boy nodded again, leaving the kitchen to go sit down at the table. 

Asgore came in shortly after, taking a seat beside him. “Hello young one, I hope you are doing well” Toriel came out with the pie,  
“Gorey dear, guess who helped me make the pie today.” Asgore looked up and smiled.  
“Did one of the guards come in without my noticing?” he questioned  
“No dear, Wingdings helped me. It was a rather enjoyable time. I think he did an excellent job.”  
“How lovely, I am sure the pie will be excellent.”  
Toriel dished out the plates and this is when Wingdings decided he would be brave again, Toriel had no problem with his speech, she didn't even question it. Now lets see what Asgore does.  
Toriel passed him his plate, he tried to speak a bit clearer. “Thank you”  
Asgore's face was washed with confusion, he looked around for the voice only to realize it had come from beside him, he looked up to Toriel to see if he had heard correctly. She was beaming. Toriel looked happier than he had ever seen her.  
“Lovely day today!” Asgore joined in the joyous moment. Wingdings felt safe. 

~~~~

The first time Toriel hugged him, immediately he stiffened up.  
“What are you doing?” he asked.  
“I'm giving you a hug, my child..” she looked down at the small skeleton, he looked like he wanted to ask something, he would open his mouth to speak then close it again.  
“What are you thinking, my child?”  
Wingdings looked up at her with the most confused expression she had ever seen on someone.  
“What you are doing, this action is called a ‘hug,’ it feels nice.”  
“Have you never had a hug before?”  
He shook his skull. Toriel became sad and hugged him just a bit tighter.  
“Well, you can ask for a hug whenever you would like one.”  
The boy nodded. He was not used to asking for anything but he would try it at least once.  
When she let go, Wingdings left the room, Toriel curiously followed him. What she saw made her heart break, and soar. He sheepishly walked up to the king, trying to ask his question. Asgore was very patient with the boy, knowing he had difficulty with speech.  
“Can I-” taking a small breath, stedding himself. “Can I have a Hug?”  
Asgore’s eyes lit up, as he pulled the young skeleton into his arms.  
“Of course, young one.”

Toriel thought that he was really improving, but sadly, Wingdings never asked for a hug after that.

~~~~

The king and queen didn't know how badly Wingdings had suffered during the war, just that when they found him he was very injured and very scared. They didn't know the cause of his injuries. They knew that most nights he had nightmares, but that was it. 

It was the morning after one of Wingdings’ really bad nightmares. He could still feel the pain in his bones from being slammed into the coffee table, the way the glass clattered to the floor once it dislodged itself from in between his bones. The smell of his marrow soaking into his clothes. The look of pure hatred on his father’s face. Everything ached. His bones slightly rattled as he made his way to breakfast. He sat down, eyes devoid of light. 

Toriel smiled as she served him his breakfast. Wingdings picked up his bowl and spoon to start eating, but he underestimated how shaky his hands were. He lost his grip on the bowl and it smashed on the ground. The sound ricocheted in his skull. He started hyperventilating, Asgore lifted his hand to place it on the boy’s shoulder, trying to calm him down. Wingdings still in a panic flinched, lifting his arms up to protect his skull from the oncoming strike. His eyes lit with fear. “DoN’t HuRt Me, i’M sOrRy”..! Toriel watched in horror as Wingdings cried. Asgore lowered his hand, stepping away from the child. The crying subsided, Wingdings moved his hands from his face, he knelt on the ground, slowly picking up every piece of porcelain. 

“Wingdings, my child. I would like to get someone else to clean that up. Would it be okay to accompany us in the courtyard, I think we should talk.” the boy continued to sob as they left the room. He knew this day would come, he made a mistake, he spoke too much, he asked for too much, he was weak and pathetic. They could finally see it, what he really was.

“Im sorry im sorry im sorry im sorry im sorry im sorry im sorry- ” the young boy’s breathing became erratic. He wasn't taking in enough air to support himself. He fainted, collapsing into the field of buttercups. Toriel knelt down at his side, slowly trying to shift him. And that was the first time she saw it up close. His injuries. 

Wingdings was known for always wearing long sleeved clothing. He had a variety of turtle neck sweaters, and never wore the t-shirts that were brought for him, even when visiting the hottest part of hotland he still wore long sleeves, claiming he couldn't feel the heat as he had no skin. But that was a lie, he just preferred that his arms were covered. Now he was unconscious and on the ground, he had no control of whether his sleeves rode up his arm or not. This is how Toriel saw them. Wingdings’ sleeves had shifted and along his bones were several fractures of varying depths, spiraling and cutting up his arms. Toriel gasped, she was about to heal the injuries but on further inspection they looked old. Toriel brushed her paw over the child's skull. Slowly but surely she lifted the child up into her arms and carried him to his room. 

Wingdings' room was very minimalist, Every time they would go to the shops Wingdings would claim that he didn't need anything else, that what he had was sufficient for him. The royal couple would shrug and continue. But it felt too sparse in the room. Toriel sighed as she placed the boy down on his bed, adjusting the covers as necessary til he looked comfortable. The queen stepped across the room and pulled out his desk chair to sit on. She kept watch over the boy until he was rested. Asgore checked in a few times but didn't feel like his presence would help the situation so he stayed away. Slowly Wingdings awoke, he was quiet, surveying his surroundings. He squeaked when he saw Toriel. Pulling the covers up to his nasal bone before using his manifested hands to sign. 

'Whatever I have done wrong, I am sorry-'

“Child, you have done nothing wrong, you collapsed on the way to the garden, I want to ask you what caused you so much distress this morning.”

‘You mean when I broke the bowl..?’

“Yes, your reaction to it was not- it was the loudest we have heard from you, why would we hurt you?”

‘I broke a bowl, I thought I would be in trouble.’ 

“That was an accident my child, why would you be in trouble.”

‘I-i broke a bowl, i-I w-was careless, s-stupid… don't be mad, I didn't mean-  
If he was here I would be in trouble for sure…’

“Who is he?”

‘Father’

“What would you get in trouble for?”

‘Everything. I-I broke something, creating a mess, making a ruckus.  
Speaking, not eating when told, eating too much. Having materialistic possession.. I know I have been bad, but you never told me to not speak, you never threatened to take my books, you gave me meals and talked to me like a monster, like I'm worth somethin-. But I'm not. You are always so nice and I broke a bowl. I will be good, please don't throw me out.’ 

“My child, I am not upset at you, nor am I angry. Please do not fear me, I will never hurt you, neither will Asgore hurt you. But I have seen something that worries me, who hurt you child.”

Wingdings shook his head, eyes flashing purple, trying to remind himself he was the last skeleton, no one was there to hurt him. He didn't need to keep this a secret.  
“It is considered taboo to talk about with an outsider..”

“Am I an outsider?”

‘Yes.’

“What makes me an outsider…”

‘You are not a skeleton. There was a reason we had our own community, segregated from others. But I am the last of my kind, I hold all knowledge of my people. No one can tell me no, no one can hurt me if I tell you, no one can put the fear in my soul preventing me from telling you.’ 

“Then you are okay with me knowing. You trust me..”

“Of course I trust you,” ‘I wouldn't speak to you at all if I didn't, I would have a wall of bones preventing you coming close. But I still dont think it is right to tell you, it is wrong, I know it is wrong, I have spent the last few months observing every little detail of the monsters around me. How they treat others, and your way of doing things is so vastly different I don't know how you would react. It's considered taboo to talk about it out loud for a reason.’ 

“If you are uncomfortable then you don't have to tell me anything.” 

‘It’s fine, I don't mind, I have already come to terms with my fate long ago. I just don't think you will like what you hear. Perhaps I could write it down, that way you could read it at your own pace. It might take a while to write, but eventually our history should be documented for others to see just how far my race has gone in their pursuit for- I'm rambling, sorry, if I keep talking I might spill just how bad our history really is.’ 

"That is alright. Would you like to go out, we could purchase some writing surplise for you to use. Are you feeling well enough? "

“I am okay, I just feel a bit weak. Just *huff* let me get up” he shakily tried to get out of bed before Toriel put a stop to him.

“Oh, no no no. If you are not well, you should rest, stay in bed for today, and I'll bring you some tea. We can go out tomorrow. There is no rush.” 

Toriel quickly left the room, to return with some tea and pie. 

"Thank you"  
~~~~

The book Wingdings picked out was a black leather bound book. He embroidered the title along the spine. The word Skeletons in a beautiful gold thread. The first page was written in calligraphy, set out with the title and table of contents written out with black ink. 'The definitive and complete history and physiology of skeletons.' 

Skeletons first became their own segregated community back in the early 1200s. There were three main leaders, as it was decided that the fate was to no longer rest on one skeleton's shoulders. Alongside the rulers was a priest, who judged the fate of the damned. Condemning the Damned however they saw fit. Contrary to popular belief the priest was always female.  
Their ideals were outdated. They believed that the skeletons were a race of high esteem, their vast Magical abilities and high intelligence were a gift from the Gods. They were destined to become the perfect warriors, they only had to sacrifice one token for the skeleton race to achieve righteousness. 

If you want to procreate, you are only permitted to have one child per household. If the mother produces more than one child she would be put on trial. Most likely to be treated as a witch trial. The children would undergo a test of intelligence/endurance. The one who excelled would also survive. 

The Sacrificial lamb is a boy the age of 5, would be picked by the priestess and be held accountable for all the wrongdoings of the town. Once a month they would be put on trial in front of the entire community. They then would be punished leaving the child with more broken bones than whole ones. The lamb is never allowed to step foot in the temple as they are considered unclean. At age 10 there was no protection for them if they ever left the house. The townsfolk were encouraged to beat and rape the child. If one were to kill the child their child would be used as the next lamb. Once the lamb turns 15 they will be held trial one last time, before they are sacrificed in front of the entire town. They would be burned at the stake, leaving nothing but dust and ash. The day is called the day of dust, turn to page (5) for further information on the tradition. 

5 day sabbatical -this festival is held the week after every trial, there is to be no work done within the 5 days, it is to celebrate the lack of evil in the town. 

Day of dust - when the sacrificial lamb turns 15, he is considered to be ready for adulthood. As it is customary for skeletons to be treated as adults when they turn 16.  
The day starts at 05:00 where the lamb is bathed before being taken to the town centre. The priest is to the call on the gods to witness and accept this sacrifice. The lamb is bound to a post that is stacked with wheat and branches. Everyone in attendance is to remain silent, the priest steps forward 7 times and repeats the same few words before they signal the privileged to light the wheat. There has been no child that has survived the final trial to date. 

In the back of the book there was a note written on a ripped out page.  
P.S burn this after reading. 

The day you found me I was not hiding from the humans. Honestly I think about it, I might have preferred the humans compared with who I was hiding from. Humans would just kill me.  
After my mother birthed me she disowned me, she was disgusted she carried me to full term. The first sound I made caused my father to curse the high heavens for I was born an abomination to the skeleton kingdom. My font was.. Undesirable, I was not allowed to speak even when spoken to, if I ever made a sound I would be beaten, if I made a sound in the presence of someone else, I would be thrown into a shed and be left there to die.  
I was not allowed to leave the house during the day, if I ever did something wrong I would be locked in my room. I would be given 3 meals per week, and if I failed to eat what I was given I would starve the following week. If I needed to be punished further, I would be tossed outside. Others would beat me, break me, then rape me. I was 9 the first time it happened, I broke a plate and my father threw me out. I decided to go to the river to bathe, some found me and beat me, they forced my head underwater til I couldn't breathe, they stripped me of my clothes taking what they wanted and then left me there. My father found me and dragged me back home tossing me in the shed, when I had awoken I was still unclothed and had to walk back to the house. Everyone laughed and threw things at me. I walked in the door and was immediately facing towards my father. The humans were coming, and I was blamed. He beat me within an inch of my life before I managed to get away. I hid under a tree for 6 days before I was found.  
I am nothing but a lamb ready for slaughter, yet to you I am a monster. That is all I ever wanted. So please don't kill me when I turn 15.

~~~~  
Gaster was dreading the week up to his birthday. Somehow he managed to survive this far in life, but as the date slowly approached, his anxieties rose. He knew he was supposed to die on his birthday. He avoided giving Toriel the notes on his history to try and postpone the date. But the fear returned when he took one look at the calendar. There circled in red pen was his name. 

The day arrived and he woke up earlier than he normally would. Hiding himself under his bed, positioning himself out of sight of anyone who may enter the room. 

Toriel was the first to enter, as she would wake him up in the morning.  
“Wingdings are you in here?” no response. 

“Asgore have you seen wingdings?”

"No I haven't, was he not in his room?"

"No, he wasn't, he also isn't in the bathroom."

"I'll ask the guard if he has left the building."

That is when Toriel heard something, as quietly as she could she followed the sound. Stepping into wingdings' room, she could hear the faint sounds of bones rattling. She crept up to his bed and peaked underneath. There pressed up against the wall was a distressed looking skeleton.

"Wingdings, my child. Why are you hiding under the bed?" 

It took a while before he responded but when he did, Toriel's heart stopped.  
"I don't want to die!"

All processing abilities stopped functioning, did she hear him correctly.  
She must be mistaken. But the boy shaking under the bed looked so scared.

"W-What do you mean? I don't understand."

Wingdings slowly pointed to the book on the floor in front of him. He inched it forward before it was in her reach. Still not wanting to startle the boy she grabbed the book as slowly as she could. Once the book was in her paws she opened it and began reading. 

Her tears would not stop, no matter how much she willed them away. This poor child. Her child. How could this happen.

She had enough. She reached out for Wingdings wishing he would come closer. "Please come out from under there so I can hug you. Please. 

Wingdings remembered hugs, he liked hugs. Slowly he slid a bit closer, only to stop to check for any deception, when he found none he slid the rest of the way out. Immediately he was scooped up into her arms. Refusing to let go. 

After a few moments Asgore returned with a guard, causing Wingdings to bury himself further into Toriel's fur. "Dismiss the guard Asgore, and join the hug." 

The King quickly joined them, but he remained clueless to what was happening.  
“Now, Wingdings, we monsters do things differently.. We had planned what is considered a normal monster birthday, it was going to be a surprise but if you are uncomfortable I can explain everything that will happen, I even have a runsheet of what order we were going to do things, do you want to celebrate your birthday?” 

Hesitantly Wingdings nods. He takes Toriel's hand and leaves the room. 

It was nothing he could imagine. There was cake and all sorts of food, set along a large table. Streamers and balloons decorated the walls. Wrapped boxes were stacked by the fireplace. It was all too overwhelming for the boy. He turned around towards Toriel seeking more comfort she willingly gave. He cried into her blouse until he ran out of tears. 

What is the matter, my child. 

Too much. I'm sorry. 

No need to apologise my dear. Let's just make this a day for you to remember. 

Okay.


End file.
